Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of them. I don't own the state of Illinois either, where the story takes place. Have I explained that yet?

A/N: Here's chapter four part 1 –again – albeit longer than last time. I finally fully finished this chapter, so I decided to divide it up differently than I had originally intended. Well now…things are heating up aren't they? There's a bit of a romance going on (and I don't mean between Matt and Kathy) and I'm not sure if anyone has caught on to yet. It's kind of unusual…

gravity of truth

"You would have thought we'd learned you can't make promises all based upon tomorrow

Happiness, security, are words we only borrowed…"

-This Isn't What We Meant (Savatage)

The shrill ringing of the kitchen's phone jolted Bert out of his thoughts. Startled into movement sooner than him, Susan reached for the phone. She had arrived home earlier than she had expected, the meeting having gone faster than she had anticipated. For some reason she seemed so on edge. No, that's not true he berated himself softly. You're just as tensed up as she is. But why? There's nothing to worry about. It's not like they haven't come here before.

Who was it that had picked them up? Some guy, a dark skinned guy he thought, some friend of a friend or something. Whoever he was he had had a giant truck with room enough for everyone. It was nice to know they had made friends. That was something he had always had difficulty doing…

A small gasp from the phone, made him turn. Susan's face had gone pale.

"Susan, what?" He rose instinctively from his chair, moving to her side. She brushed him off absently, her hand straying mindlessly. Her eyes were glazed, and she seemed distracted, her lips white.

"Susan?" Now he was really worried. Something had happened, hadn't it? How would—what would—

Without another word, almost coldly, she returned the phone to it's holding on the wall. Bert watched her uneasily, trying to sense her mood or gauge what had happened.

"Dear? What –"

He never finished his sentence for she grasped his arm, fingers digging into his skin. Her blue eyes, a paler shade then their niece's bored into his, frightful, determined and shaken.

"Bert. Bert, it's them. They…had an accident." The words were wobbly, as if the voice that spoke them could not quite believe them either.

"What! How? What happened?"

"I—I don't know. Oh, oh, Bert. There was something…it got in the road."

"But they're all right, aren't they? They must be or they," he waved dispassionately toward the phone, as if those that had just called were a collective creature he could label, "wouldn't have called."

"It's just happened. Or happened recently. They say they'll be at the hospital. We need…"

"To go." He finished for her. "Yes."

With almost mindless, numb grace he helped her into her rain coat, heedful of the sound of rain. It sounded of as if it was fading fast. Perhaps that had added to the cause. As he walked with her to the car, Bert felt his thoughts whirl in a windmill of circling motion.

The hospital. No, it can't be that serious. Everyone goes there. But why did they call then? Why didn't they call sooner? How they call so soon anyway? They can't be hurt. No, of course not. They were just here this morning. Why are they at the hospital? What's happening?

This last thought seemed to drown out the rest with a scary sense of foreboding. He shivered unconsciously, pulling Susan to him before he had to part with her to get into the car, the sense of disaster gouging all other thoughts from his mind.

In his dream he saw a face before him. Lily-pale with open eyes. They reminded him of teardrops of pink crimson, pleading out to him though the face still remained so faraway. The lips moved, mouthing words he could not hear, the soft gauze of her lavender hair curling around her face, gentle like a flower's petal. Her lips were still moving, her face growing closer. It was a face he could almost remember, one he had dreamed of before. She was calling to him. For a moment the apparition's words seemed to reach him in his dream.

Kiba!

The name was ripped from her lips like an unheeded, unnatural call, as if she had not quite meant to say precisely that. Then another word came to him, a different call, this one crying, calling so urgently.

Tsume!

With a jolt, he was wide awake, mind reeling. He was still in the same spot where he had laid down to sleep. The couch's rough cover was better than some he had seen but it was odd to wake in this strange apartment, no matter how long he had been here.

Rain was falling outside, the ringing peel of each raindrop echoing against the glass window.

Rain, rain, it's been doing but rain recently. It was not a real thought, and he knew it. His eyes were tightly closed as if his mind was still floating somewhere else, in that elusive place where dreams lay. His own dream was still potent in his memory.

Uneasily he sat up, gingerly fingering his brow before running his fingers through his short cropped silver hair.

Tsume was not the kind of man to take things without question. It went against his nature, and everything he had been and everything he halfway believed. Which didn't leave him much room with the dream he could still feel crawling through his mind.

Kiba.

The name brought with it a mixture of emotions that he disgustedly turned from. It was a name he had heard before. He just wasn't ready to hear it again.

Unsettled, though he wouldn't have thought as much to himself, Tsume rose to his feet, making his way to the window. It overlooked one of the town's streets. Not one of the best views, but he perhaps had seen worse. The night was coming on quickly, as the gold of the sun began to sink beneath the inky blue of twilight, dotted with silver shadows. How long had it been raining anyway? He rubbed at his forehead again. His limbs felt leaden, that dream voice resonating in his head.

Something's wrong. Or something's going to happen. I can feel it. I don't know why or what, but I can. It's like a shaking, beating in my bones.

Though the thought did not comfort him, it made his head ease a bit. There was always something that could go wrong. Feeling his shoulder relax, Tsume let his mind wander.

The next thought he had brought back all the tension he had felt, along with it a weary kick of lead to his stomach.

The kid and Blue, and those brothers of hers, were heading back today. I remember Hige couldn't take 'em so someone else…a friend of Cheza's…

Tension peeled away to alarm as all his earlier feelings came back, when he had been new in his town. It had been that guy—Raphael—who had worked with Cheza; he was taking them! Instinctively, Tsume felt something snarl in him and before he knew why he was doing it, he had made his way to the door.

Stunned, he stilled his hand as it hovered over the doorknob. He was getting carried away, being irrational because of a dream and a bad feeling.

But I never trusted him, that Raphael. He smelled like danger.

Without another word to himself or otherwise, he was out the door, the sound banging desolately in the rain's melody.

The sound of the phone surprised her. Not that she wasn't use to it ringing, just that its timing surprised her. She had been in the middle of trying to work out a specific sentence. So far it wasn't getting too far. From where she sat, hunched over at the hard wooden table in the high ceiling living room, Emma listened distantly to the ringing echoes of the phone.

It rang another time, then again, followed by a third. The voice of the answering machine kicked in, its monotone words buzzing the words in her mind. It was her habit not to answer the phone 'til she knew who was calling. Odd perhaps, but effective enough by its own right.

The voice that answered was not one that she had expected. Sounding pitched, it was the voice of Blue and Toboe's aunt, the one they had come to visit. I think her name was…Susan? Was it? The message continued on regardless of her thoughts. The words rushed by, in a frenzied manner, wrapping around her head and chipping away at any continued thoughts of creativity Emma may have had. In a sudden rush, she struggled out of the large chair, hurrying to the already ending message. A red light blinked on the phone, alerted her to the missed message. One word still rung in her head. Accident.

She felt her inside squish down, twisted up. Trying to regain her panic from overwhelming her, Emma found herself mindlessly picking up the phone. But who could she call? What number was there?
Her first thought was Tsume, but she did not where he was staying. He had never said.

That was followed by Hige. Matt! Yes, he lived nearby, or close enough. She'd call him. She had to…had to get…get there. Yes.

Before she had a chance to there came another unexpected sound, this time from the door. The sound was loud and harsh, cutting through Emma's disjoined thoughts. The door…someone's at the door…She thought hazily.

Shaking her head, as if to clear it, she weaved her way away from the phone between the wooden chairs scattered around the dining room table. Once she had made it down the front hall, she gave herself a mental shove, sighing sadly, before she opened the door. It was not what she had expected to see. But then, it seemed the night was to be one where nothing was quite what she would expect.

Both Hige and Tsume were standing there, the former leaning forward anxiously and half-dragging her out the door before she had a chance to say anything; the latter hanging back but with a sense of tension and coiled alarm.

"Stop dragging her."

The gray eyed boy stopped, a bit self-consciously, then patted Emma insufficiently on the arm. "It's just…"

She interrupted him. "I know. I just got a call from their aunt."

A profound silence fell around them, awkward, anxious, and predictive. With a nod of his head, Tsume beckoned her then strolled off her front porch. Hige lingered behind grasping her arm almost embarrassedly.

"Tsume came and told me he thought something was up. What is it? Did something happen? You're white as sheet, Chez."

She stared at him, stunned. She had thought that he had known for sure. Wasn't that why they were here, the accident? Hadn't they come to go see if Blue and others with her were all right?

"Oh Hige."

His gray eyes watched her, curious but apprehensive as if he could feel the tension running in the air. It smelled of rain, recently stopped, the air a wet, moist blanket. The dampness made her nose itch and her eyes water. At least she wanted to believe it was. Tsume gave a yell from where he stood beside his motorcycle, bringing her attention back to the present.

Sighing, she patted Hige's arm awkwardly. "I'll tell you on the way."

It was with a very distressed Hige that the three arrived at the crash site.

There were lights blinking almost everywhere, luminescent and bright in the steady night. In the distance the sound of sirens could be heard. There didn't look as if it had been a majorly bad accident, and there only seemed to be Raphael's dark green jeep, laying at a strange tilted angle beside the metal road stop. The sound of the ambulance's song seemed to be getting louder, muffling out the small, confused crowd of people who had formed around the site. So faraway from any major cities, any accident, however small drew the attention and concern of passing by travelers. Especially at such an odd time, in early spring night, just after twilight. They seemed to be shouting, or arguing about something. Even as she listening, she saw the object of their confusion and alarm.

It was a wolf.

There were hardly ever any wolves around here. Hardly like…this one was. Seeming disoriented by the lights and noise, the wolf turned its gaze toward her, and as it did she felt her body shudder and her feet root to the ground.

She had never seen a wolf like him, nor had ever seen on so close. Oh, she had seen them on documentaries and such; Emma had always been drawn to wolves somehow. It had never made much sense to her, this happy, insistive need to surround herself with wolves. Everything from wolf blankets, bedsheet, drapes, statuettes, fluff-stuffed ones, even t-shirts and a keychain. It had never been an effort, only an unconscious action. And yet the strangest bit of the whole thing, which she had come to realize recently, was that her feelings for wolves were not what one would most expect.

Other people would have reasons, they would admire the wolf, love the wolf's characteristics; in short, have thoughts with which to define or defend their feelings.

She had none of that.

They were wolves and what went with that was just a mental 'yay!'. When Emma had first been introduced to wolves had been quite by accident. A chance project in elementary school had sparked her love, and afterwards her feelings for wolves had flittered between highs and lows but always something a part of her yet something she had never given much thought to.

And yet, here was a wolf, standing a few feet away, staring so intently at her she felt her knees buckle.

All around was chaos, a spring night filled with flashes and loud beeping calls, shrill and alarmed. There were people around, rushing back and forth making a very brilliant light burn.

The pit of her stomach was a dead weight, cold and rigid. She couldn't move. There was too much shock and surrender running through her veins, like fire and ice, mixing in a dangerous combination. Exhilaration and happiness seemed mixed in as evenly as the despair and uncontrollable fear that was running like wildfire in her body.

Blue…Toboe…The worry twisted her stomach again, but she couldn't take her eyes off that wolf.

Everything else seemed so far away, distant sounds and colors in the night.

The wolf was bleeding, a thin strip right above his eye. And those eyes, she had never seen such eyes! So golden and wild, gazing right into her.

She thought she might be shaking though she couldn't really feel her body. But she wasn't afraid, just confused, startled, tense. This wolf…he…was a smoky white, ragged fur a mismatched shade of creamy and snowier whites with patches of dirt and burrs tangled in as well.

Everything about him seemed so familiar. Intently, she wanted to reach out to him, wrap her arms around him and brush out all the dirt.

The feeling was so potent, like a crying pull, a desperate need in her heart, she felt herself swaying. These feelings—this feeling—it was so similar, yet not the same at all, as when those distant names had floated through her head.

There had been another name, one she hadn't remembered. This one flowed and encircled, a rainy name like tears. Flecks of white snow in high places, beyond what you could see. No thoughts, just feelings. Pure, untainted, natural, salvation feeling, as if everything had been washed away, cleaned again like fresh white snow. White, so incessively white. But a pulling drive, a solid heart, despite reason drawing her on, pulling her toward this wolf with the white fur.

Kiba

The name came from no where and spoke to the depths of her soul. This was what that small part in her had been waiting for. She didn't know what it was but it scared her, as much as it seemed somehow natural.

Her legs finally gave out, and she fell to her knees. There seemed to be many voices calling her name.

As she stared the wolf's ears stood upright, as if he heard something she could not. He bared his teeth to some unseen shape her mind couldn't register. Then with a backwards look in her direction, he bounded off the road into the woods around. It was as though he was saying silently, I'll be back. Wait for me.

Another loud shout, almost a curse, accompanied the action and bustle of shapes floundered after the fleeing white shape.

Kiba.

She knew he would come back; she had heard the unspoken promise from him. He would never leave her.

It was such a nice feeling she almost felt content. But there was still a leaden sickness in her gut and a frozen chill in her limbs. She shivered despite the warm summer air.

The bright florescence lights blinked overhead. Buzzing nosy and distant static echoed over the hospital intercom. Most of the hallway was empty at this time of night. The faintly potent scent of cleaning fluid filled his nostrils, an almost too clean scent that made his growing panic mount even higher. They hadn't been able to find him. That animal that had appeared at the scene.

Kiba.

The name echoed in his mind, a name he knew he remembered. In the instant he had seen that white wolf in the light of the screaming sirens of the ambulance, he had known without saying why, that that was who the wolf was. And with it had come another feeling, unexpected, but somehow so predictable. This wolf was a threat to him. Every instinct shouted it into his ears until he thought the pulsing blood in his beating arms and legs would burst, even as he felt himself shake for a moment. Even as he knew that this wolf, this Kiba, was not the one he should be shouting against. But his presence would change everything, just as it always would. As it always did.

Crushing the thought away, another took its place. Where is she? And Hige, too? Have they got any news on that Blue-girl and the runt? The first stirrings of true panic began to grow, rapid and fervent, taking the place of the threat in his blood. He felt his heart beating faster as he raced as calmly as he could down the hallway.

It opened into a wide waiting room. Two rows of hard seats with sea green cushions stood in the middle, small tables in front of each stacked with piles of the usual reception crap that was always there. All the seats were empty except for one. The occupant was leaning back in the chair seeming to ignore the obvious discomfort of such a thing, neck tilted back with wide eyes gazing up mindless on the lighting above.

In a rush Tsume raced over to the slouched form, asking harsher than he would have anticipated, "Where are they? Are they alright?"

Hige turned his face slowly to Tsume's hard gaze, his usually bright face seeming strained. "Dunno." He attempted to smile, but the effort lacked conviction. "When we were riding up, Blue gain conscious so that's something I guess." As if reading deeper into the other man's tightened expression Hige continued, "Doctors say they got a good chance, since help got there so fast. Everything'll be fine. Don't worry." This last part was hardly above a whisper and seemed spoken more for the speaker's own benefit then for Tsume's own comfort.

Even though Hige had turned away again, Tsume nodded, then sighed heavily. Rubbing his forehead he told himself to relax, knowing it wouldn't do any good for anyone for him to drive himself into the ground.

"Did you find the wolf?"

"No. He disappeared."

"I'm not surprised."

His eyes darted back to Hige's bent head.

"How would you know?"

The younger one gave a limp shrug of his shoulders, a slow grin spreading across his lips.

"Dunno. Just thought that, was all."

"Ah huh."

Neither said anything as the silence deepened, or at least as silent as a hospital could be. The constant clicks and beeps filled the air, somehow making the stark whiteness of the walls and floor seem even more pungent and remote.

"Where's Cheza?" The sudden rush came floundering back to him, and he couldn't keep the sudden sharpness out of his voice, as it nearly cracked. What is wrong with me? I need to calm down.

But Hige only eyed him again beckoning with his head on down the rest of the hallway. "She went to see if there were any vending machines nearby." He paused. "Maybe she thought she'd find something for me to eat."

Tsume scowled down at him, frowning at the ease with which he had said that. "Always thinking with your stomach I see."

"Only sometimes."

The clean air was surprisingly quiet for that small, single instant, as neither of them spoke and Tsume stared down at Hige, his frown still in place.

"I'll go look for her then."

"Right. If you run into her, make sure she's got a bag of chips or something. I could use something salty."

"Of course."

He found her by the vending machines as Hige had said. Though not quite how he had half-feared, half-expected to find her. There was the large vending machine, obnoxiously lit with dull neon colors, and there she was sitting with her back against it. She still wore her lavender-red raincoat; somehow strangely clean for all the chaos before.

Cheza was merely staring ahead and did not seem to notice him as he stood there self-consciously at the end of the hall. The hallway crisscrossed with another that kept on leading onward while this side intersection ran a short distance perpendicular to it, before coming to the gleaming snack machine. Except for the soft hum of the machine's electric plugs, there were no other sounds.

No one else around either. All alone…The thoughts left him feeling cold and confused, the latter a feeling he always despised. But at the moment, his usual sense of priority did not win out.

Suddenly anxious for some sign from her, the leather-clad man trudged toward her, standing almost warily above as he gazed down at her. There was a trepidation lingering in his limbs, a sudden sparked feeling having nothing to do with the strain from earlier. He felt a rush to his heart, as though panicked but he knew he was not afraid. It was as if this moment hung on a thin edge, the blade point of a knife, the thread of a tightrope, dangerously close but teetering unsurely.

A strong stretch of silence followed until she finally looked up at him.

Her eyes were so wide and red-streaked around the edges, from crying no doubt, she looked nearly frightened, blasted to her last defense. Her expression shot him through the heart. The feeling was not unexpected, after all, they had all cared for her in their own way, yet somehow something in the beat of his heart made it feel different.

Tsume crouched beside her, watching her with carefully guarded eyes but badly veiled open concern. At the hard gentleness in his eyes, she blinked at him then the edges of her mouth pulled upward in a tiny effort at her more normal atmosphere.

"That wolf…" Cheza's voice came out quiet and slightly hoarse, cutting through the silence. He felt his hackles rising, knowing without knowing why what it was she was going to say. Instead she surprised him.

"It doesn't really matter. Right now I mean." She attempted to smile again, and this attempt seemed a bit more sincere. "Thank you, Tsume." With those words she rested her head gingerly against his shoulder as it hovered right at the same height, sighing huskily then relaxing, leaning her full weight on him.

Stunned, he peered down at her then back down the short hallway. No one around. The beating in his heart had grown louder, and he felt it in every breath he took. He clenched his right hand into a tight fist, a part of the arm she was not leaning on. The palms felt vaguely hot.

He watched her again, eyebrows drawn tight, half squinting at her, hoping in his heart to find, maybe see, what it was that kept him here. What it was that called him? For surely, he was not the one who should have been searching. That was a task left to him, left to Kiba. And yet…he had come all the way here, going on whatever shreds of instinct he still had. He had always told himself it was that uncompromised wolf-instincts that had drawn him here, to this center where somehow they had all found each other again. But now as he sat here, his legs starting to cramp in the awkward position, he knew that it was more than that.

He relaxed as well, slumping to the floor beside her. The action jarred her resting head a moment, but she coiled back again, her cheek rubbing against his bare shoulder. As he watched her he felt an odd softness growing in him. Watched her as herself, as Emma Starr, the girl who had so indignantly batted with him when he had first seen her. Her short hair had grown out over the last few months he had known her, the pale ginger shade highlighted in the neon glow behind them. It made her look so much more fragile to him, though he knew she would never like to hear that, but in spite of that he felt his heart tremble at the imagery as if a dam had suddenly burst inside him and had come racing forth to drown him in its wild current.

"Em?" She stirred and peered up at him through lidded eyes, seeming startled by the use of her real name.

"Yes, Tsume?"

Her words jogged something in his mind, something he had been meaning to tell her but somehow had never had the heart to openly admit. He had told the runt of course, making him swear not to tell anyone else, though why the forceful pressure he wasn't sure. Maybe he just liked to keep his privacy to himself. But the words merely flowed out of him, trickles of the dam that had burst.

"My name, my real name, is Jonathan."

"Jonathan." Hearing her voice say the word, in her soft but absolutely vibrant tone, a lively dancing melody, reached through to his heart and nearly made him shiver.

"Well, thank you again."

"For what?"

A real smile this time, though a small one, graced her features from the odd angle he was looking at her.

"For being here." The smile faded as her lips turned downward and her brow bit together almost in seeming concentration. "Everything…seems so confusing now..." Her voice trailed off for a moment but before he had a chance to speak again, she found the words she had been trying to find. "This feeling…what am I suppose to do about it? This beating in my heart, so painful, but so a part of who I am. As if there's this moment I've been waiting for, to finally see him again. He's been trying so hard to find me and I didn't even know." The crack of her voice made her stutter and his heart break, or nearly so, at the hitch in her tone. "And how could I know? I'm not…I'm not…its jest…" Her small shoulders shook against him and clutched at his gray shirt holding onto it tightly.

So close to him, Tsume saw the tears starting in her eyes, both of them squinted shut as though to keep the tears from flowing. She didn't want to cry, that much was clear, but her constitution seemed to be breaking.

Her voice seemed to clear enough to understand her through her hitching breath and struggle not to cry. "What tem I suppose to do? Ah'm not…ah'm nut…" She trailed off again and then really burst out.

She wasn't crying very loudly but the sounds of it, so close to his ears left him stunned. He almost felt his limbs were shaking, though from anger or sympathy he would never be able to remember.

I won't let her suffer like this. I can't…let her. For the sake of my sanity. For the sake of my heart…

Wrapping his arms around her he pulled Cheza to his chest letting her fall into his lap. She didn't seem to notice, merely kept clinging to him. He patted her head, stroking her hair softly then kissed her without thinking on the forehead. His actions hardly registered to him at the moment, right now all that mattered was her happiness, all that mattered was her.

"It's all right, Em. It'll be all right." The words did not sound particularly helpful but they were all he could think of. This tremendous, beautiful, funny girl was not Cheza. Or rather she wasn't the Cheza Kiba had once known. She was a human, not a flower maiden, and so was he. They were both human.

The realization made him gulp nervously as he thought back on those so-called wolf instincts that had led him here.

Ever since he had been old enough to think rationally, Tsume had been certain that there was something out there, away from where he lived, that was quietly waiting for him. His common sense told him he was being foolish, ridiculously stubborn but the feeling had remained, all through the rest of his life. There was a woman he was searching for, because she had been taken away from him, and some part of him had known that if he had found her, he would find these others that floated just beyond his conscious reckoning. And then he had. All he had had to find her had been a name and a gut-feeling. Not normally to be the one to follow through on such impulses this one had won out in the end.

But since he had met Cheza, he had felt something changing in his feelings. She was charming, silly and as sweet as he somehow remembered, though she'd certainly smack him for saying such to her. Or perhaps not? Either way, without him noticing, she had stolen his heart.

"You're Amelia Starr. Just be who you are." The words simply came to him, as easily as his realization had, murmuring steadily from inside him.

She had abruptly stopped crying and was now only whimpering softly into him, face buried into his chest.

He didn't know what else he could say, or more importantly why he was precisely bothering, but she silently him as she spoke, rising her head gingerly off his chest.

"Thank you…Jonathan."

continue on to...gravity of truth (part 2)